


To Taste You

by bg84



Category: 1800s - Fandom, Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Tomolinson, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction, Vampires - Fandom, lourry - Fandom
Genre: An Adult Love Story, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lust, Sex, Vampires, Victorian era, het story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3999445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bg84/pseuds/bg84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I came for land...and to feed. That's when I saw her. Now I fight. Now I know passion.</p><p>Pick your poison...Louis or Harry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Summer-1801._

 

The music was low a roar amongst the drunken background noise. Men gathered for after dinner cigars and sipped off the decanters of Brandy, causing eruptions of laughter. Women spoke of reckless musings amongst friends and danced in lines with their partners. I hated every bit of it. 

 

I felt the familiar burn in my throat as I watch the exquisitely dressed patrons of the town dance and gossip. I shifted my eyes to hide the glow that would circle my eyes, when the thirst hit. I walked around the room, entranced by the different scents. I had only hope to be here for the night. To feed. Then be on my way.

 

The gentleman of the house, Count Gregory, invited me to this party. I had no intentions of coming. My plans involved the local inn, a peasant or two, and then onward bound. But, he insisted. Who was I to turn down such… options?

 

I stood at the bottom of the marble stair case, and stood with my glass in my hand. Then, I saw her. The moment she walked in, something in me, felt, alive. She came in late. How could I have not noticed her? Her golden hair was in tousled curls down the middle of her back, pinned precociously back to show her face. She wore a dress of the deepest of emerald, flowing around her ankles as she lightly floated across the room. A diamond collar around her thin neck. I could smell her scent of freesia from across the room. I need to see her eyes. My mouth begins to water.

 

_The aching returns._

 

She stops to grab a glass of champagne and quickly drinks it down. She turns her head. Someone has called her name. The wolves are upon her. I see the flush on her cheeks as she turns to listen to the group of women, obviously bored with the local gossip. She excuses herself and grabs another glass of champagne before walking off. The women become enraged with her. They talk about her ‘lack of propriety.’

 

She walks towards me. I stand up straighter, preparing to introduce myself. She walks right past me, but our eyes meet. I take in her scent. It’s overwhelming. The bluest of eyes. I follow her. Count Gregory stops me. _Fool._

 

“Lord Tomlinson! I want to introduce you to a few of my acquaintances.” The stupid fool. I cut my eyes at him. I let him introduce me his companions feigning interest in their lands. They eventually grow of thirst and depart. I ask Count Gregory about the mystery woman.

 

“The lady who came in late, who is she?” I ask nonchalantly.

 

“Oh! That’s my wife’s cousin. Lady Belyeu. Yes, she is a beauty, is she not? Recently widowed.” My ears perked up. _Wonderful._

 

“Widowed?” I ask feigning interest.

 

“Yes, yes. Her husband took a terrible fall off a horse. A rib punctured his lung. He practically suffocated to death by the time someone found his body. They were married for all of 3 months. Travesty really. My wife begged for the Lady to come live with us, but she refuses. She chooses to live at the Château de Milandes in Perigord outside of town with just her and her staff. All alone.” He drunkenly rambles on.

 

She heads out to the balcony and leans over the railing. I walk out after her. To catch her scent again.

 

“Lady Belyeu?” I call, softly.

 

She turns her head sideways and stares at me from dark lashes. An unknown dizziness surges through my body. I must have her. Tonight.

 

“Yes?” Her voice, a whisper.

 

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Lord Tomlinson. I hail from Doncaster. I am a master of many lands..’ I dribble on, sounding drunk myself. She looks up at me bored. My heart, if I still have one, falls.

 

“I’m sorry? I do not know where Doncaster is.” She turns to face me. The wind catches her scent and brings it towards me. I inhale deeply. She watches me intently, noticing the effort if I took into breathing.

 

“It’s in England...” I drone, her scent lingering in my blood. 

 

“Oh. I’m sorry.. You said Lord Tom…linson?” She asks.

 

I smile. “Yes.. that’s correct.”

 

She smiles back at me, “Please to meet you. What brings you to Perigord? Wait. Never mind. I don’t truly care. Would you like to have a drink with me?” I am taken by her crassness. She was an honest beauty.

 

I take her hand and kiss it. I see the delicate throb of a pulse in her wrist. I bite the flat of her palm, drawing a small amount of blood to the surface. She whimpers lightly. Shocked but not worried. I look down at her. I feel the glow in my eyes returning. She is a mystery. 

 

“No. But I would like to have a drink… of you.” I lightly flick my tongue on her palm and savor the tiny morsel of blood.

 

I hear her gasp catch in her throat. Her eyes intrigued.

 

She doesn’t pull away.

 

She comes closer.

 

“Then take me home.” She whispers.


	2. To See You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Belyeu is pronouced Lady Blue. How do you feel about Louis??

My lip curls in satisfaction. A small chuckle escapes my throat. She asks for death? Something isn’t right. Why does she give in so easily? I stare at her curiously. “You so willingly give yourself to me?”

 

“When you have nothing to live for, you tend to think abstractly. If your plan was just to tease, then I will be going now.” She sets her glass down. I watch as she walks back into the party. I am confused. There was no chase with her. There is always a chase.

 

Screaming.

 

Then silence.

 

I follow behind watching as she moves through the ballroom. The lords and ladies wave at her, trying to get her attention. She pays them no mind. She continues on to the front door, asking the doorman to bring her carriage around. He calls for a page and he quickly sprints off. I stand by the door watching her. Her soft curls are picked up by the wind. Her Lady’s maid suddenly appears at her side, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders. The carriage arrives. Her footman steps down and assists her into the carriage. I hear her say “Thank you Niall, “ as the carriage door slams closed. And then they pull off.

 

I watch in silent fascination as the carriage carries on down the road. The inner demon in me screams to follow. I pick up my steps, then take off into at full run. I quickly catch up to the carriage and lightly hop onto the back. I am never noticed by them. A horse whinnies. My ears pick up the conversation going on inside the carriage.

 

“You did not stay long my Lady.”

 

“No. Not tonight Elle.” I hear her ladyship lightly sigh.

 

“Is everything all right?” Elle questions.

 

“Yes. I am fine. Thank you.”

 

“You do not look like someone who is ‘fine.’” Elle, the Lady’s maid points out.

 

“Elle! Why must you question everything I say? I said I am fine. Therefore, I am fine. Stop being mousy. Its quite irritating.” Lady Belyeu snaps.

 

“I apologize my lady. I overstepped.”

 

“Yes! Yes you did.” I hear the frustration in her voice. ”But… there was a man. Lord Tomlinson. I have never seen such a handsome man in my life. He had the most extraordinary, haunting blue eyes.”

 

The Lady’s maid giggles. “So you did have a good time!”

 

“Let’s just say, the scenery was much better at this party than the last.” I hear my beauty laugh. A beautiful laugh.

 

The carriage pulls onto a gravel road. The châteaux is a marvel to behold. I quickly dart off the carriage and hide along the side of the house. The footman helps her down. She walks quickly into her home. I crawl through an open window, and stalk quietly through the house. She makes her way up the marble staircase, her Lady’s maid at her heels. I jump and glide gracefully over the stair rail. I listen carefully for anyone coming. I hear no one but my Lady and her maid.

 

“I call for you a bath, my Lady.” Elle says.

 

“Thank you Elle.” My Beauty says. A low bell chimes to ring for the chamber maid. I hide myself behind the thick curtains. A young lady emerges from the back stairs and knocks lightly on the door. Elle opens the door.

 

“Nadiehn, her ladyship would like her bath now.” Nadiehn nods and quietly steps into the room, leaving the door open. I slide gracefully into the room and hide once more behind an armoire. The maids quietly help my Beauty undress. She sits in the copper claw foot tub and Nadiehn pours the warm water over her, walking back to the fire to get the next pot of hot water.

 

“Nay, please don’t get my hair wet. I hate waking up with my head aching from wet hair all night.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

“Her ladyship met a man tonight!” Elle says laughing, “Her hair must be ready in case he decides to suddenly show up!”

 

“Elle!” My Beauty slaps water at her Lady’s maid.

 

Nadiehn laughs. “A kind sir…?”

 

“I am not entirely too sure. He seemed kind.. But then…” She looks down at her palm. She lightly touches the two perfect holes in her palm.

 

Elle sees her hand and panics. “My Lady! What happened?” She grabs my Beauty’s hand and goes to cleaning the marks delicately. I catch myself wanting to touch her. I lean back against the wall and rest my head on the armoire.

 

“Nothing. Just clumsy.” She stands up. The maids dry her off and help her into a cotton chemise for the night. She walks to the four-poster bed with white fabric draping loosely from post to post. She crawls into the bed and rests her head gently on the pillow. Her maids say goodnight, blowing out all the candles on their way out and exit the room.

 

I hear her sigh and toss in the bed. I quietly step out from my hiding place and walk to another corner to stand. The moonlight beams down on her. I watch her in awe.

 

My perfect beauty.

 

I listen for the rhythmic breathing and watch the rise and fall of her chest as sleep succumbs her.

 

I make my way to the side of her bed. I stare down. I reach out and run my finger along her jaw. She never moves. Sitting down beside her, the bed quietly moans. Her chemise is loose and revealing, showing the rounded tops of her breasts.

 

_‘The things I can do to her.’_ I smile to myself and lightly trace her arm with my thumb. My need to have her becomes overwhelming. Touching her causes a sensation I have not felt in awhile. I bite my wrist, letting the blood run down my hand. I bring my wrist to her mouth, and slightly part her lips with my tongue. I watch as the blood droplets run down her tongue. I squeeze my wrist harder to make my blood come faster. She lightly licks her lips in her sleep and she swallows.

 

_‘Good, my Beauty. Sleep.’_

 

My blood is intoxicating. It induces sleep. It’s how I catch my prey. A taste of my blood can knock you unconscious for hours, and leave you numb, never knowing what happened to you.

 

_‘This is how I will have you my Beauty. You won’t have to fight me. You’ll never have to know.’_

 

I gently turn her head towards me. She deeply sighs again. I untie the ribbon holding her night chemise on. I lift her hips and pull the gown up then over her shoulders. I lay her head back down and stare at her. _‘My Beauty.’_ She makes no sound; just the silent in and out of her breathing.

 

I untie the cravat at my throat, removing my coat and unbutton my shirt, removing the fabric and letting it fall to the floor. I slide my knee length boots off, then my breeches. I stand there naked, running my hand over my ever growing length and a small moan escapes my lips. I crawl back into the bed and reposition myself on her. My nakedness rests upon her. Gently, I cup her breast in my hand and bring my mouth to the little pink bud. Just a little bite. I puncture her skin with my teeth and I savor the taste of her skin mixed with the saltiness of blood. Her scent overwhelming my senses. Still, no sound.

 

The desire to have her becomes almost too painful for me. I part her legs with my knee, and run my hand over her swollen pussy. My finger delves into her sacred place and it is wet with wonton pleasure. I peel the skin of my cock back and align it to her maidenhead. I thrust myself into her. Again, no sound. Most women, in this position would at least moan. Not my Beauty.

 

_She sleeps._

 

I tenderly bite her lip, having the familiar taste of her blood in my mouth. My mouth waters with the lust for blood. I lick her lip, craving more. I pace my hips in a steady rhythm trying to hold out a little longer, but to no avail. I cannot control the rhythm of my hips. Harder and sloppily I push over and over again. I gasp then groat at my release. I feel myself erupt inside her. I kiss her hard on the lips then crawl down her body, delicately placing kisses along the way.

 

I rest my forehead on her inner thigh and inhale deeply. Listening for that familiar throbbing pulse in her femoral artery, _“Whoosh, Whoosh,”_ I run my tongue along the inside of her thigh. I grab her left thigh and bring it my face, the fangs protrude out. I lick the sharp points. I find my spot where I hear the blood rushing. I pull my head back, fangs blazing, and pierce the pale skin of her inner thigh. I drink greedily. Her blood, so pure and intoxicating. Drink and drink. No sounds from her. I spill none. This has to be quick and clean. I finish, wanting more.

 

She is quite pale now, whereas I am flushed with color from her heat and blood. I stand up and stare down at my Beauty. Her blonde tresses are thrown every where, her night chemise ripped from her body, blood oozing from her mouth, breast, and thigh. I smile again. I want to remember her like this forever.

 

I quickly dress. Staring at her the whole time. I kiss her lips full and lingering.

 

_’Goodnight my Beauty.’_

 

I pull on my knee high boots and head to the window. One last look, then I climb out of the window and head into the black night.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 

When Lady Belyeu awoke that morning, everything on her body hurt. She was in immense pain. Her neck had a horrible crick in it. Her mouth had an old rust flavor of… blood? She wiped her mouth and saw dried blood on the back of her hands. She looked down at her gown. Her gown? Where is her gown? She rolled on her stomach, in agonizing pain, saw it on the floor ripped. She rolled back. Her left breast was bleeding from two perfect holes. Her breath quickened. Her thighs ached and the flesh between her thighs burned. She ran her hands down her thigh and found a bump…then another. Dried blood from two perfect puncture wounds.

 

She sorely pulled herself out the bed and rang the bell for Nadiehn. She quickly pulled her ripped chemise over her. Her heart racing. _‘He had been here. He touched... No bit me.’_ She started to pump the water herself into the large pitcher and place it by the fire. Nay quickly came to her side.

 

“My Lady? You would like to bathe before breakfast?”

 

“Yes, yes of course.” She sits in the tub with the ripped chemise still on. Nay notices the dress in tears but says nothing. Her ladyship does not sleep well since the death of her husband.

 

“Please wash my hair. My neck is ever-so sore today.” Nay gathers the lathering soaps and proceeds to wash Lady’s hair stopping to massage her scalp and neck. She pours the hot water over the Lady’s head and rinses the suds out. Elle steps in with a new dress for the day. Her ladyship frowns knowing that the bodice will hurt her left breast most of day.

 

A light golden muslin shift was pulled over her head; the bodice pulled tight with a girdle to produce a bigger bust line, burned where it hit the recently injured nipple. Neatly puffed sleeves capped the shoulders. Her low square neckline did not leave much to the imagination, and her narrow back bodice was attached to a separate deep gold skirt. The wet curls tied messily back in ribbons and pinned fashionably.

 

She walked down the stairs, slightly hobbling along the way to the dining room.

 

“Your ladyship, are you alright?” Nadiehn asks.

 

“I just slept poorly. I am sore all over.” Lady Belyeu attempts to sit down, followed by her hissing as she does.

 

“Maybe we should call for the doctor?” Nadiehn remarks.

 

“No! I am fine. Really. I just need to work out the aches that is all.”

 

“I think you dreamt of your mystery man!” Elle giggles and she sits down the food.

 

“What I dream does not concern you, Elle.” She sips her tea, and grins over her cup to Elle.

 

“I knew it! YOU did dream of him! I forget his name! What was it?” Elle plops down in a chair besides Lady Belyeu. She looks at her wildly as Elle forgets her place in the household. Elle quickly stands up, and straightens the chair back up, causing Lady Belyeu to laugh.

 

“Lord Tomlinson.” She reminds her.

 

“Lord Tomlinson!” Elle and Nay coo.

 

“Oh hush.” Lady Belyeu's cheeks flush a brilliant pink.

 

“My lady?” Niall walks into the dining room.

 

“Yes Niall?”

 

“The carriage is ready. We can go into town at your pleasure.” Niall bows.

 

“Thank You, Niall.”

 

Lady Belyeu stands, wincing and pushes her chair back. Elle brings Lady Belyeu her Spencer jacket and bonnet. The three girls head to the carriage, arm in arm, laughing over Lady Belyeu’s lack of sleep, and failed attempts to get in the carriage. She finally manages to get in and sit, causing her pain to shoot up thigh and sear her bottom.

 

“Would you like a pillow, my lady for your rump?” Elle laughs.

 

“Do not laugh at my pain Elle! I do not why I hurt so. Yes. A pillow. Please.” She groans.

 

Nadiehn laughs lightly and helps resituate Lady Belyeu on her pillow, amongst the whining.

 

The carriage ride into town was miserable, but the maids idly chatted while Lady Belyeu moaned. The trip to town was needed. Lady Belyeu’s maids dresses were starting to look tattered, and their shoes, dated by Lady Belyeu‘s standards. Lady Belyeu made sure her staff was well dressed among the gentry. A feat which caused her family much strife. Her mother, Marchioness Kennedy, hated that Lady Belyeu spent her money on her staff rather than her lands. Her maids were very excited about the shopping trip.

 

When they arrived in town, Lady Belyeu once again needed assistance out of the carriage. Elle and Nadiehn laughed at her, causing her to pout in pain. Lady Belyeu led the way to the dress shop, the girls close behind her. Lady Belyeu stopped suddenly. She felt like she was being watched. She turned her head side to side, her eyes scanning. There. Her breath caught in her chest. She spotted him. He stood by the apothecary shop. He gaze set on her. Her heart raced. The burn in her thighs blazed more. He smiled. Then strutted towards her.

 

“My Lady! Why did we stop? The shop’s right there!” Elle says impatiently.

 

“Hush Elle!” Lady Belyeu fidgets.

 

He stops in front of Lady Belyeu and bows down, taking off his hat, allowing the auburn feathered hair to fall over his eyes.

 

“Lady Belyeu.” He smiles, innocently. She knows better. He is a monster.

 

“Lord Tomlinson.” She politely curtsies.

 

“Lord Tomlinson!” Elle squeals then claps her hand over her mouth, causing Nadiehn to snort.

 

Lady Belyeu grits her teeth. “Ladies! Inside. Now.” Elle groans as Nadiehn pushes her into the store.

 

“I had hoped to run into you before my departure.” He smiles down at her.

 

“You will take your leave so soon?” She asks.

 

“I had hoped to stay longer.” He wets his lower lip, eyes trailing the curves of her breast.

 

“Then you should.” She says politely. 

 

He grins. “Would you like for me to stay longer, my Lady?”

 

“No. I wish nothing of the sorts.” She cuts him off quick. His face changes to confusion.

 

“You are angry with me? About last night?” He frowns.

 

“Yes. About last night...” She raises her eye brows.

 

“I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you.”

 

“I am sorry. I am a bit confused. Do you speak about the biting of my hand? Or you coming to my house and having your way with me? It just all seems to run together.” She clasps her hands in front of her, her face daring him to lie his way out of this. He is taken aback. She stands ready to inquire. 

 

His mouth drops. His eyes widen. He grabs her by the hand and drags her to the side of the building.

 

“What are you talking about?” He hisses. 

 

“Do not think me some feeble woman! I know what you did! I was there when you bit my hand. And then I wake up this morning, covered in the same exact bite marks, exhausted and weak? I am no fool!” She whispers angrily.

 

There is panic in his voice. “Why do you think it was me that came to you in your sleep? You could be a mad woman. No one will believe you.”

 

“I cannot bite my own thigh, Lord Tomlinson. Did you drug my drink?”

 

“No! I would never!”

 

“I suggest you leave town. Your absence will go unnoticed.” She turns from him, he grabs her arm.

 

“No, I think I will stay awhile longer.” He smiles at her. She glares at him, curtseys, and leaves to head back into the store. A small smile forming on her lips.

 

He is amused. He will stay a bit longer.


End file.
